Violet Song
by Charlie Raey
Summary: It's my fault we haven't talked in almost 3 years, after all. Sasuke Uchiha and I used to be best friends in middle school and through freshman year. However, I pulled back when I discovered something unforgivable in sophomore year. I was in love with my best friend. Eventual SasuNaru. Rated M for language and adult situations. Eventual Lemons.
1. Crooning A Tune

Hi everyone! I know it's been a long arse time since I last posted, and I'm sorry no warning was given for the sudden deletion of Another Year and Pink Blood and Guarding Your Assets. I just couldn't get into the storylines anymore, and I like to think I grew as a writer:D

I'm sorry the first chapter is so short, but I hope you like Violet Song! Please take care of me from now on too:3

(sometimes my 'w' key sticks, so if you see something missing a letter, tell me, and I'll try to fix it.)

Oh;P

I'll be doing songs for this story too, so tune in;D

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**_"Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding_**

**_Fall into your sunlight_**

**_The future's open wide beyond believing_**

**_To know why hope dies _**

**_Losing what was found, a world so hollow_**

**_Suspended in a compromise, yeah_**

**_The silence of this sound is soon to follow_**

**_Somehow, sundown_**

**_And finding answers_**

**_Is forgetting all of the questions we called home_**

**_Passing the graves of the unknown _**

**_As reason clouds me eyes, with splendor fading_**

**_Illusions of the sunlight_**

**_And the reflection of a lie will keep me waiting_**

**_With love gone for so long_**

**_And this day's ending_**

**_Is the proof of time killing all the faith I know_**

**_Knowing that faith is all I hold- "_**

_'Trading Yesterday'_ by: Shattered (MTT)

Life can be funny sometimes.

I try not to grimace as my new partner sits down next to me, but from my cousin's smirk, I can tell I've failed. Letting my hair fall into my face, I tell myself that it's only for a few weeks, until we finish the article. But it doesn't help, and my silent pep-talk is interrupted by the cause of my distress passing me one of the project papers.

I glance up through my fringe, and meet black eyes. They narrow, and I force a half-smile, sitting up again and meeting his gaze fully.

He raises a brow, and I ignore it, thinking that yes, life can be funny, but it can also be a bitch.

I know for a fact, since I'm the one who wrote out the partners in lunch detention, that my teacher is simply being a vindictive bitch, and pairing me with the one person in the room I wouldn't want as a partner, simply because she hates me. The slightly smug gleam in her eye confirms this, and I squash the urge to throttle her, as it would ultimately hurt me past the momentary satisfaction. But I'm tempted when the smug gleam turns into a narrow eyes glance that tells me she knows that I realize she's done this on purpose, daring me to comment.

But I let my eyes fall back to the sheet of paper and scan quickly, realizing how long this thing is actually going to take, since she's given us one of the longer stories-of course she has. And as I lift my eyes again, he's pulling out his assigned copy of the novel and notebook, already the thick wall of silence built up between us like always. Not that I have the right to complain. It's my fault we haven't talked in almost 3 years, after all. Sasuke Uchiha and I used to be best friends in middle school and through freshman year. However, I pulled back when I discovered something unforgivable in sophomore year.

I was in love with my best friend.

Don't misunderstand me; it isn't that he was disgusted because I'm a boy and pushed me away, or was even shocked, or angry. No, the issue was that I couldn't bear him to look at me with that...that _look. _The look that's so close to pity it pinches and crushes your nerves and makes your skin hot with something like shame. Not that I think he would do it on purpose. He really is a great guy, and sweeter than he pretends to be...No, what actually happened was both better and worse. I pulled away and left him alone, because deep down, I am a coward. I was terrified and 16 and too young to be in love. The problem of my sex was a non-issue by the time I finished freaking out. So I ran away, and I haven't stopped since. The fact that we're a table apart means nothing, because emotionally and mentally and socially we are oceans and planets away, and even if I am ashamed of how I reacted back then, it's probably for the best for it to stay this way.

This way is easier and less painful. I told you I was a coward.

I shake my head and grab my copy, opening it up to chapter one. She's given us _'The Princess_ _Bride'_. I remember hearing it was good, and grab a mostly empty spiral from my bag, clearing a section of desk for it and a pen, settling down and starting, silence between us as the only company. As much as my heart is thudding and crawling up my esophagus to reach him, I stomp the impulse out and force the letters to make sense to my brain. No good can come from thoughts like that and my ridiculous feelings.

I've made it through the first chapter and a few pages when the bell rings, and I mark my place, add a few more words to my notes, and pack my things quietly, nodding once to my friends and hurrying out the door. I can feel a heavy, dark gaze on my shoulders, and it threatens to set me aflame with it's steady heat, curious and condemning at the same time. The halls are already crowded and noisy, and I lose myself in the flow and ebb of students, seeking to drown my traitorous thoughts that whisper at me in a venomous voice that I am indeed a coward. But I can ignore the hisses because I already know that.

"Naruto! Wait up!" I grit my teeth and hunch my shoulders protectively at the voice's grind on my ears. I'm not in the mood to deal with this right now. Ever since Sasuke and I made it common knowledge that we weren't friends anymore, it seems that Rock Lee's solitary job is to act like I've both failed him, and that I'm someone to be protected. The combination is both bewildering and migraine inducing. But I put a smile on and turn my head to him, pausing to let him catch up.

His face is open but nervous, like he doesn't know why he's flagged me down anymore than I do. His eyes are too bright and I can see how his fingers are in fists at his side. He's always like this now; like he has two sides to him, and they're fighting. I remember the way he used to be, when he was one of my closer friends. Now I feel like I've let him down in some obscure way, like I've taken away something that was supposed to be there no matter what, and neither of us knows what to do about it. But he smiles in this hard, thin way that I've come to hate, and plows forward.

"How was your weekend?" His voice is steady, and he only looks slightly to the right of my eyes, which I take it to mean he's in a good mood, and try not to say something unnecessary.

"It was good," I say easily, as it's been nearly three years, and if I can't lie convincingly by now I'd be completely screwed, "Beat a game, did homework, read some of that book you lent me. It's good so far."

Another lie. I haven't seen the book since he gave it to me, and am privately worried that I've lost it.

But he shifts his stance into a somewhat more casual one, and nods, a fist unclenching as he replies, "Yeah? That's good. I hung out with Tenten and Neji. Apparently Gaara's out of town, so Neji's bored. Pretty laid back couple of days."

The relaxed pose is gone, and I can almost feel his want to either raise his voice or turn his back and pretend he doesn't know me. Or maybe hit me, though he hasn't gone that far yet. I'm still holding out on four months without him trying to make me talk to Sasuke. He's convinced that I've done something wrong-I have, and have never protested that fact-and keeps trying to fix our friendship. But I have issues with that plan for obvious...well obvious to me reasons.

Nodding like I'm still a part of their friendship, even though I haven't talked to Tenten and Neji in almost three months after more months of slowly not calling for stuff we used to do together, I agree and wave as he walks off. His movements are somewhat jerky, but I can tell that he gets better as he moves away, and he's walking straight and easily by the time he turns the corner. I miss the old, firm friendship Lee and I used to have, and I miss Neji and Tenten too, but they all want something I can't give them, even though I want to. They want everyone together and things the way they used to be. Gaara is different than almost everyone else and was my friend before even Sasuke was, and we still talk and see each other, although it's been a few weeks. He never really said much on the topic of me and Sasuke suddenly parting ways, his silent questions heavy but unspoken.

Though I suppose him being out of town could explain that. I pull open the door to the chemistry room and start up the stairs, ignoring the way the teacher's eyes rake over my back and arse. I'm perfectly aware that I'd never want to be in a dark alley with the chemistry professor, Orochimaru Sannin. The way he looks at a few of us; like we're dead mice and him a hungry snake. It used to send chills down my spine and gooseflesh dimpling my arms, but I've learned to move past it. It isn't like I get bad grades, and with my godmother being principal, he'd have to disregard everything that makes it a bad idea to try something. I like to believe he's more concerned with his own welfare than that.

Sitting in the back and near the top, I put my head on my bag and glance down the stairs to the rest of them, seeing several whom I know. The school year just started a month ago, and the transferring at the beginning has come to an end. They're deciding who will sit with who and what they did that weekend. I remember...I remember that. But that's over and done with, and I focus on the front as people settle, my nails tight in my palm.

Later in the day, as I'm getting ready to leave for home, Kiba waves at me and I go over, fondness for my cousin creeping through me. He's one of my very favorite people, and never questioned my decision, taking it naturally as he believes I know what's best for me. In the years we've grown up together, I was never really the voice of reason until highschool, and even then not until mid sophmore year. But after a few days of watching me, he seemed to accept the shift and never brought it up, acknowledging that some things cannot be said freely so easily.

He shakes his head as I lean on the locker next to his, and snorts, "Bad luck, man. It must really suck being you sometimes."

_More than you'll ever know._

I laugh a small choked laugh, a thin splinter of ache going through me, actually finding the irony of him hitting the nail on the head a little funny, and nod, "Yeah, sometimes." But even as I shake my head back at him, the beginning throb behind my eyes thrums and I can feel sorrow, anger, and the ever present helplessness well up and trickle away, nowhere to go in my empty hands and my feet firmly on the ground, unable to think of any way for things to be different. To be better than they are. So I listen to my cousin complain about getting the laziest jerk in class for a partner, not saying anything about him having a crush on said lazy bum.

He's had it bad for Shikamaru Nara since the first few months of junior year, but just like with me, we never touch on the subject, and much goes unspoken of. Much is whispered in minds too tired to fight and much is brushed away when seeing it pains us. As I push open the left side of the outside double doors, musing that perhaps I'm being a little melodramatic after all, we push past a few small groups of people in front of the bike rack, keys jingling as we reach down to unlock our respective bikes. Amazingly, through all this, Kiba still complains about Nara, and I nod my head and make affirmative noises when appropriate.

Maneuvering the bikes, we lift them free and set off down the sidewalk, swerving at the end to stop for the light. As the cars pass, I try to change the subject, "So when does Gaara get back into town, do you know?"

He shakes his head and murmured a negative, speaking louder a moment later, "Nah. Haven't been talking much to Neji and them for a little while. Just haven't heard from them. I actually didn't know he was out of town."

I kind of nod and let the conversation die. After a moment, the light turns red and we ride across, keys jingling on our belts as we go up the other incline and start on the sidewalk again. It does no good to change the subject, however, and only a year of the pattern we go through keeps me from grinding my teeth in irritation when Kiba starts up about Nara again. It's not like I have anything better to talk about, obviously. So I try to pay attention on our way home, two left turns, one more crossover, a bridge, and two more right turns away. Halfway there, I feel my arse vibrate, and since I know it doesn't do that naturally, I pull over and reach back, getting my phone out.

Kiba stops a little ahead and looks back, shrugging and waiting while I look, pulling near to let a group of students pass us.

When I see who it is though, I snap it shut and shove the phone in my bag, ducking my head a little and ignoring the rushing roar in my ears.

"Was it Sakura again?"

I grit my teeth, shouts and fury and sobs rising in my throat like bile, boiling up behind my teeth, trying to escape. But a wave of helpless resignation sweeps them back away, and I swallow, nodding. I should've known better than to think my ex-girlfriend would stop-no. It's nothing. Just because...Nothing. It can't be anything, so It's Nothing. I force these words out calmly, because I've swallowed down my not-quite-fear and can speak again, and Kiba is silent in his disbelief, saying nothing as a favor to me so I retain a little privacy...or dignity. Whichever I need more at this point is given with his non-questioning presence.

The rest of the trip back is silent as well, and I'm grateful. In my mind, I think of her first text a few days after we broke up, and how it's turned into texts, and emails and something I can't do anything about. I can't do anything, because for all intents and purposes, It's Nothing. There's nobody I can tell. Nobody I confide in like that. Not anymore. If it was a few years back...but it's not, and that route is even more painful to imagine than this. Sasuke isn't here beside me, and I don't really care to replace him. Nobody could, anyways. So we're voiceless, and we say nothing about our problems. Kiba's probably struggling just like I am, and if he ever says anything to me, I'll help him as best I can. But for no, we are separate and trying not to drown.

We park our bikes by the side of the house, tying them to the fence. I unlock the door as my cousin checks the mail. We're the first home today, so I go into the kitchen and feed the dogs, letting my bag fall onto the couch and kicking off my shoes by the back door. Grabbing a bottle of tea from the fridge, I go lay on the couch, shoving my bag with my feet to the end, and trying to ignore the biting need to look at the message again. I don't really need to. It's always the same words, and I hate them. I hate them so much. Or at least, I feel like crying or screaming when I see them that way, twisted and perverted like something unnatural.

I can remember the way she always looked at me when she said it, too. That soft-eyed gaze, her cheeks creamy tan, pink hair in straight waves to her shoulders, lips in a soft smile, "I love you, Naruto."

But now it's black and cruel, and said with the anger she probably feels for me ending it so suddenly. Not that I ever checked. I've been avoiding her nearly as long as I've been avoiding Sasuke. I told you several times. I'm a coward. But maybe that's just me being dramatic. Kiba would probably agree. So I don't look at the text again. Instead, I delete it quickly and pull out _'The Princess_ _Bride'_. Kiba grabs a soda and pulls out his on assigned book, settling on the floor by the dogs. I glance up a few times at first, but quickly get absorbed in Buttercup's story.

* * *

It's nearly the fifth chapter when I hear the garage door open slowly, and Tsume's motorcycle rumble in. The dogs perk up and Akamaru, Kiba's Great Pyrenees, growls a bit, ears high. Kiba smirks and shakes his head, probably full of mischief, and my suspicions are confirmed when he drops his head and mutters lowly, in a soft voice, "What's that, boy? What is it?"

The huge dog looks at him, and at me, and growls again, rising to his full four feet at the head. Kuromaru, the slightly smaller wolf-husky mix, ruins our fun though as he wags his tail and raises his head, his mismatched eyes jolly as he whines for his master. Tsume is his momma, and he's her baby. The sound of the motor shutting off comes from the kitchen connection into the garage, and in the next moment, the knob unlocks and she's in the house, grinning at us and ruffling my hair.

I love my aunt Tsume, even as odd as she is. Her wild, dark brown hair is windswept and curls around her chin, her sunglasses perched on her head and her eyes twinkling madly. She apparently ran uncle off with her untamable attitude a long time ago, but she's never remarried after him. Kiba thinks no man can get close, but I've seen how, in the scarce quiet moments, when only us two are home and she thinks I'm not paying attention, she'll go far away somewhere I can't follow, and get a bittersweet look to her face. I worried when I was younger, right after I arrived at the Inuzuka's, that one day I would wake up and she'd be gone, differently from my own parents, but still too far for her to return from.

After a few months, and a few reassuring talks later, I was secure enough for her to leave the house for a few days, like she usually does. Most of the time it's just Kiba, Hana, and I at home. Hana Inuzuka, is Kiba's older sister. She's attending college downtown, and comes home late, so really, it's Kiba and I unless Tsume is home. In which case...

"Come on! We're having Italian tonight!" Her rough, raucous voice is warm and rowdy, and it's comforting to know that even though we may go through tough times, Italian night stays the same. Whenever she'd come home when we were little, she never did feel like cooking, and since the majority vote was usually spaghetti, we finally just made her first night back Italian night for dinner. Too bad Hana's at school, since it's been awhile since the last outing like this. Kiba whoops and I grin and toss the book back at my bag, calling dibs on the front seat as I tug on my shoes. Already I'm feeling less depressed and alone, and if I ignore the niggling sense that I should invite Sasuke, it could be a day from the past, perfect and shining and shadow-less in it's joy.

But it's good enough like this, with a brokenhearted point of view and good company. I wonder though, if I have the right to call myself brokenhearted when I don't even have the courage to tell the man I love my feelings for him.

As I slide into the car, I think maybe I don't. I probably don't. But how can something that hurts this much not be shattered into a million bloody, sharp, completely broken pieces? If this isn't a broken heart, and there is a pain past this, then I think I will fear love more than anything else in this life, for it is truly terrifying. Ah. I caught myself being melodramatic again.

For tonight, I decide, I'll be the Naruto they need, and leave my melodrama at home under my bed, like the boogie man and the other bedtime terrors piled under there. I don't need the reminder that I'll have to deal with it when I close my eyes anyway.


	2. A Short Hymn

So I guess I'll do it without more reviews and just hope this chapter gets more. Please review, guys, or I'll feel like nobody wants me to keep going b/c you don't like it.

**This isn't actually a full chapter, which is why there's no song to go with it, it's just a short blip to let you see real quick exactly how Sasuke affects Naruto.** Hope you like it! Review!

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It's been almost two weeks since I started to slowly go insane. I mean, I knew I was close before, but actually feeling your sanity drip out your ears is traumatic on many levels. For one, it makes you feel like you've truly hit rock bottom, and for another, it's makes you paranoid and jumpy. I feel like I should be checking over my shoulder whenever I feel a heavy gaze on me, because I know what it feels like when Sasuke looks at me. I have to remind myself that it doesn't mean I need to do something unnecessary like starting a conversation I can't finish. And when nobody's watching, I can peek through my lashes and see the pale stripe of neck under the collar of his shirt. It makes my stomach bubble with excitement and my mouth water, because if I had my pick, that would be the perfect spot for a hickey.

I'm going mad. Round the bend, I swear. For the past few days, almost a week, I've been re-noticing things about Sasuke that I've tried to ignore for the past two years. Things as absurd as the way he frowns when his hair falls into his face when he's reading, or the look he has when he gets bored and begins to zone out. Totally tiny, obscure little details that only serve to distract me when I'm trying to concentrate on not leaning across the short desk and licking at that length of neck flesh, nibbling on his ear, or sucking on the skin just below his left ear so I can hear him gasp. Distracting, and non-productive.

I seem to be a bit deprived...

But other times, when I'm feeling a little down, I can oh so easily see him wrapping his strong arms around my waist just to hold me close, or his lips on my on neck, teeth scraping at my pulse and jawline, licking a stripe around my ear. And then I wake up from my day dream and see him packing his things to go, ignoring me like always, and I feel like breaking something just to hear it shatter. This is the reason I separated myself from him. I couldn't bear it when Sakura was holding my hand and I'd see a girl come up to him, because it literally felt like chains were across my chest and squeezing me tight. It makes me crazy and paranoid and all-too-conscious of the tightness in my throat when I speak near him, the constant thud of my pulse under my skin as I feel his heat next to me. It makes me fall in love all over again, and I hate it, because I've been avoiding him for all this time for nothing if everything's the same. I want to weep as I feel my heart thump harder and I need to scream and curse when I blink fast at his face so I won't smile like someone's just handed me the sun and moon and stars.

Right now, for instance, we're supposed to be comparing notes and talking about the story at our week two checkpoint, and I realize that this project won't work non-verbally, and I feel my pulse shudder and jump, and my fingers grow tight around my pen. I need to leave, or pass out, or something else that would be productive right now, but all I can do is stare blankly at my closed book and hold my pen in my lap, waiting for him to finish reading my notes. I suddenly hope my penmanship as neater, and half-a-second later I realize again that I'm an idiot.

I'm startled out of my thoughts as the paper rustles and he puts it down, face empty, eyes watching his hand put it close to my book, unreadable. It twists and wrenches at me to have his Wall erected so firmly and completely at me. Not surprising, but somehow I feel it like a blow to my gut, and have to swallow a few times until the thickness in my throat has thinned and I can speak normally.

"Do you think I missed anything?" My voice is shockingly calm to me, and I marvel for a moment, waiting for his answer in hand-shaking nervousness. He doesn't realize he could destroy me with a few well-placed words, and hopefully doesn't see that the baby hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention as he opens his mouth to speak. But that's ridiculous; he's still looking at the desk, and not meeting my eyes or even looking like he's talking to me at all. He could be talking to himself and I would find nothing strange about it. I'm rambling, I'm so freaking nervous. And he's not even looking at me. Pathetic.

"It's fine. But in the third chapter, you forgot to note that it was only because they threatened her with death that she agreed to marry the prince," his voice is even, a monotone, and it makes my toes dig into my shoes, and it feels like I'm straining at my bones, holding myself back with my very skin to keep from speaking too soon. I can't say anything for a moment, and instead nod calmly. When I've recovered, I take the paper and scribble a note in the margin, asking afterward, "But besides that, are we good? Did you notice anything else?"

He shakes his head, and replies in that same damnable voice, "No, it was okay. The part about Westley being killed was a little glossed over, but so long as you have it you'll be fine. We should start to combine the story soon and begin the rough draft of the report on it. We only have another two weeks, and then he have to write the final and give our presentation."

My heart is cramped in my chest and I hate that the sole reason is how much he's voluntarily spoken just now. I could cry. This, _this_ is why I can't stand myself. A few words and him not even _looking__ at me_ makes me ready to love him harder and longer, and fiercer than I'm sure anyone has loved before. But. No.

"Alright, so we can meet in the library a few times during lunch or after school if you want," I don't know who's talking right now, but I let him speak, because he's doing much better than I've been doing.

"Sure. Wednesdays and Thursdays are bad for me, but any other day is fine," he says easily, and suddenly I want to ask him why they're bad for him. Ask him how he's been and what-

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll let you know next class which day I'm free. I should be good for anytime, but my aunt just got back last night, so I'll check with her."

Do you want me to tell her you say hi? Why do I need to wait until next class when I have your email and phone number? I've had them since I can't remember, not used anymore, sure, but still there. Always there. So-

The bell rings and he nods, "Okay."

He's gone.

And I need to break something again.


	3. Hum A Lullaby

So this story probably won't be too long, maybe around 20-25 chapters or so. If you'd like a big conflict, review who you'd like the bad guy to be. Kabuto, Orochimaru, Pein, or Itachi. Or Madara. Never written a Madara before, but always open to new things. But no obscure villains I won't remember the background of, please. Has to be a "big-timer". With that said, I have a basic outline for this story, but it can be altered if I like one of your ideas enough. If nobody puts one in, ill go with the original, and pick out my own conflict. Also, depending on how many people ask for it, I might do a Sasuke POV next chapter. The story will be mainly Naruto, but I might give sneak peeks on special scenes and occasions:D Here's your chance for input! Review! PLEASEEE!

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**_"Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor_**

**_Reachin' for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore_**

**_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind_**

**_For me it happens all the time_**

**_It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now_**

**_Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now_**

**_And I don't know how I can do without_**

**_I just need you now_**

**_Another shot of whiskey can't stop looking at the door_**

**_Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before_**

**_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind_**

**_For me it happens all the time-"_**

_'Need You Now' _by: Lady Antebellum

I'm examining a bruise a got from a door earlier today when Kiba comes into my room, and flops down on my bed, groaning in relief.

"Why is your bed comfier than mine, you bastard?"

I just laugh and prod at the swollen patch of darkness by my jaw, tilting my head at the mirror to try seeing it differently. I'd been thinking too hard about tomorrow, which will be the first study session in the library for Sasuke and I, and had rammed into the school office door, too late to stop it from banging my face. Hopefully tomorrow will end without either of us reacting weirdly. I don't think I could stand it if something else got fucked up. But as I poke at the bruise one last time, I can only see Sasuke's emotionless eyes staring me down, daring me to comment. Daring me to act like this whole mess isn't my fault. I never denied that it was. In fact, I encourage that opinion. I snap off that dry branch of a loop thought, and shake my head again, glancing at Kiba. He's petting my cat, Kurama, and a small wrinkle is tripping up his brow. I raise my on brow, and mutter teasingly, "Don't hurt yourself."

He blinks, and scowls up at me, sticking out his tongue. I snap my mouth shut, teeth clicking in my jaw, peeling my lips back in a wolfish grin, and he pales, withdrawing his vulnerable appendage quickly.

I chuckle, and flop down next to him, shoving the cat over so I can lay down. Looking up at Kiba, I ask, "So what are you thinking so hard about over hear?"

"I...I was thinking about today. In class, Nara was quiet," his low voice is enough to make me look at him again. His eyes are down, and his neck is pink.

"Isn't he usually quiet, anyways?" I ask, wondering where this is going. My pulse suddenly jumps and skitters through me in a jolt as I realize he could be trying to breach the topic of his crush. I'm so not ready for this that I almost feel my heart stop beating for a moment as my own personal world quits spinning.

There's a huff of air from beneath his hair where he's dropped his chin to his chest, fingers still rubbing the cat's head, and I can't tell if it's exasperation or humor, so I say nothing, waiting for his next words with baited breath. They surprise me, regardless.

"Well, yeah, but he usually answers me, at least. Maybe he just thinks I'm a moron now," his voice is small, and I can empathize with the uncertain ache of feeling the one you love think bad of you. But I say nothing empathetic, changing to as neutral a point of view as I can.

"Well, maybe he was just in a bad mood or something. Everyone has bad days."

Kiba's quiet a moment, and nods finally.

"I guess you could be right. Maybe he was just upset about something." I can tell he doesn't truly believe this, and I bite my lip to keep from speaking sympathetic murmurs and encouraging words, because he's become accustomed to me being silent, and I should remain so, but I wish I could whisper that I support him, or even squeeze his shoulder in silent rallying, but I do neither. Instead, I nod and give him a pat on the knee, where it rests by my hand.

So we sit in silence for a few helplessly mute moments, both in quiet turmoil.

It's the cat who saves us, butting into my face rudely and 'mrow'-ing loudly at us both. The second of hesitation is over, and Kiba's face opens like the sun, beaming down at us, and the world has righted itself. He stands and offers me a hand.

"Wanna go riding with the dogs?"

Just like that, the silence that suffocated us is over, and I nod easily, grabbing my jacket from my chair and glancing once more at the bruise, wondering obscurely in the back corner of my mind if Sasuke will think me uglier for it. And again I'm silent a moment to let the berating of my own self pass. So much in silence now.

But there is also bright, sparkling, screaming noise, and I laugh with genuine joy as Kiba whistles sharply and there's a chorus of barking and whining from the backyard. We stampede down the stairs, leaping off the second to last step into the living room, and skidding to a stop by the back screen door. Akamaru, Kuromaru, and Hana's three long-legged huskies, Haimaru, Imaru, and Oimaru, are all gathered at the backstep, staring at the handle. Kiba jiggles it, and Akamaru wriggles in tune, whining.

He's so much energy in a body, Kiba is. So full of it and bursting through his being that when he does get serious or down everyone notices. I can't say I've been able to help at all, though. Of course I try, but with as many monsters as I have on my own, somehow I'm not much use to others. I think to myself, that it would be great if I could at least help someone so important to me as Kiba is, as I watch him latch collars onto the five dogs. That would be awesome, and pretty much all I could ask for.

Shoving my feet into my shoes, I can hear my cousin humming under his breath, and one of the dogs rubs against me, making me stagger and grin. Despite my mood shifts, I can't help but be eager as we practically leap from the front doors, a herd of dogs following us to our bikes, prancing, well-trained to stay close by, as we mount up, our wheels clicking as we start riding. I laugh as Kiba tries to maneuver through the group, gaining the head and leaving me to bring up the rear of the pack, the dogs spaced out between us, baying in joy. We don't do this too often anymore, so this is a big thing for them. They're too big for us to go very often, because even if they're well-behaved, they're still big, brawny dogs that look half-wild when they're like this, happy and panting and barking.

We're halfway to the park we usually go to when Kuromaru drops back to trot next to me, too old for endless gamboling these days, and prideful enough not to give up all together. So he acts instead like he's taking pity on me, which I don't actually mind, smiling down at him.

"Getting too wild for you up there, Kuro?" He wags and the tip of his tongue is all I can see as he pants, padding along in that weird, spaced out zig-zag pattern that only ever makes sense to dogs. As we watch Kiba and the boys goof around ahead, we're quiet and peaceful in our silences, side by side on the concrete.

But as we reach the very edge of the park, he seems to recover his strength, racing ahead and outdistancing the younger four, with all the speed he had when he was their age, easily passing them and leaving them to whine and chase after. As I catch up to Kiba, we stop to watch over them from where we are, on the crest of this hill. Dismounting, I lay down my bike carefully and sit on the cool blanket of grass, fingers curling into long, uncut blades, inhaling clean park smells. There's somebody a little way off barbequing with his family, the wife seated at a picnic table with a cooler next to it, kids tumbling around on the playground. The dogs are roughhousing and fumbling further away, and there's a little baseball game going over on the clear other side of the expanse, the sounds of cheers, a loudspeaker calling plays, and bats connecting with balls drifting over to fill the air. All in all, this is so very close to perfect, and I lay down, watching the clouds roll by.

The wind plays with my hair, and I breathe in the smell of hotdogs and burgers, sighing the air out slowly. I can see the front of Kiba's front wheel, and I tilt my head to look at him, furrowing my brow, "What, too good to sit on the ground, your highness?"

He blinks, like he's woken from a trance, and starts to smile, looking down from where he'd been staring out at the sky.

Dropping his bike with all the regard of a two year old, he flops next to me and stretches, "Nah, I was just thinkin', 's all."

"Oh now I'm scared," I tease him lightly, smirking.

"I'm not the one who ran into a door, Mr. Graceful," he shoots back, and I pout, fingering the tender place again and feeling my brow wrinkle. He swats my hand away, though, and musses up my hair, rolling over and proceeding down the hillock before I can retaliate, laughing as he flees, coming to a stop on his back again, hands spread wide and reaching at the sky, falling to hold onto the grass like he's afraid he'll fall off the earth. But I just smile, brush my hair out of my face, and follow after him the same way, giggling stupidly as the world tilts and spin crazily.

We lay there, side by side, our bikes a ways above us, until the dogs are back from their romp, climbing over us and licking available skin eagerly, yipping and barking at us to get up and play with them. Trying in vain to get up, we're held down and thoroughly bathed, laughing and smothered with heavy bodies. Crawling carefully out from under Haimaru and Kuromaru, I quickly stand up and abandon Kiba to him fate, running off towards the pond near the end of the park. I hear the pack give chase, and I sprint away, breathless in excitement as I leap and zig-zag across green grass and over pebbly rocks near the sandpit and the swings.

I swerve right before I hit the shallows and run parallel to the water's edge, looking back to see Akamaru splashing through the water, slowed a little. Oimaru and Imaru had a slow start, and are just reaching the water, and Kuromaru is gaining on me with Haimaru galloping next to him, tongue lolling out, his big paws digging into the soft mud by the swell of the water.

For a whole span of the day, my life is perfect and untouchable and preserved in bright happiness and carefree joy.

And I relish the sweet, soft sound of laughter mixed with the echoes of that joy, as it washes over me, head to foot, soothing an ache I didn't know I had until it's relieved. Finally, I have to stop or I'll die from lack of oxygen, and the dogs barrel along my legs, threatening to topple me as I grin at the sky from under the branches of the tree we've come to rest under. Kiba's bringing the bikes over slowly, and shaking his head as he smiles.

"You, sir, are Odd. And for me to think that must really mean something," he teased, and I can't help but agree a little, and take my bike from him, letting him grab his own more securely as the dogs bump against us both in their eagerness. They probably, with Kuromaru being the exception, won't be calm until we get home. We let them dance round a little more, setting the bikes back down and sitting with Kuromaru as he gets tired and lays down, the younger dogs romping nearby but not on top of us anymore.

"So what's the plan for after high school?" Kiba suddenly asks, and my mind blanks. Why is he suddenly asking about after we graduate? I think for a moment, regardless, and frown. Do I really not at least have a back up I can let roll off my tongue like most people do? Not even an idea I can tell to stall for time? Apparently not, I think, as I remain silent, eyes lowered to my hands as they clench and twist at my shirt edge. But that's not neccesarily a bad thing, right? Keep the options open in case I suddenly want to be a doctor or a photographer or someone who hosts safaris. Safaris would be interesting, I think, with the animals and plants, and the-

"Don't hurt yourself, bro. Just a question," my cousin teases, and I stiffen for a moment, before relaxing, and letting go of the reins to a swathe of stress I know I didn't used to have all the time. But before I can answer him, Kiba stands and stretches, cracking his neck and twisting to pop his back.

"Well I think I'd like to be a vet, if I can get the higher grade in Technical Biology that I need. The vetrenarian's office downtown offered me an internship, and I thought it sounded like a good way to go," he says slowly, almost gently, and I agree before it really hits me that Kiba-KIBA-has a job lined up in front of him, while I have no clue what I want to do with my life. My throat clicks dryly as I swallow the thick lump of desperate anxiety that threatens to choke me for a few seconds before subsiding. But it's okay, and he's not making me speak, just staring up at the sky, softly ignoring my speechless worry.

"Yeah?" I finally come up with, and frown as he nods quietly, glancing at me. My chest releases the great burst of despair that it had been clinging to as I realize that nothing has changed in the past few minutes. Not really. He's still Kiba, and he's still looking at me in that wierd way he does, asking for approval. I smile easily, and the wieght on my stomach and skull and body altogether is vanished, taken away by his looking up to me despite so much I've done wrong. He grins, and his shoulders drop in a sigh as he bends to crack his back a final time, arms stretching above his head and eyes squeezed shut tight.

"That sounds perfect for you, cous. You love taking care of the dogs, and I'm sure you'd have a blast chattering on and on and- oh god I'm going to be the one you chatter to," I trail off teasingly, and make a face at the face he makes, laughing at his indignant mumbling. No, nothing's changed. But, I know that some things will have to change, if life is to go on. I won't always be able to glide by my problems. I know that. Really, I do. But that doesn't mean I like it or have to dwell on it before it happens.

So I ignore the tiny look that Kiba gives me, trying to conceal the fact that I never did answer his question, and definitely not touching on the way my hands have mangled up my shirt hem, clenching and stretching the fabric. For now he lets me glide and slip past my issues. He's probably one of the only one who will let me do this, and I cherish him all the more for his understanding silences. Gaara, or Tsume, they would bring up my failure to respond, and demand answers and try to analyze me. It doesn't mean I lover them any less, but Kiba holds a special place in me, next to Sasuke, if not as close to my soul's core emotions.

After a little while of calm if awkwardly peaceful muteness, I stand up next to him and crack my joints as well, trying not to moan in relief. I have grass stains on my elbows and knees, dog fur on my shirt, dried drool on my pants and arm hair, tiny golden-white hairs plastered to my skin. Despite this, I brush off my hands on my shirt and sigh as the pack of dogs roam back over to us, panting and getting that happy dog look all over the place. I've all but forgotten about tomorrow, and it rests like a slumbering dragon at the back of my thoughts. Or a demon.

Just as I'm slipping into the REM cycle of relaxed peace, my arse vibrates, and again, 99.999 percent sure it doesn't do that naturally. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the phone and read the text.

GNS: so im bck in twn tonite if u wanna come by the clb

I stare at the screen for a moment and tuck it back away into my pocket, thinking, remembering that there is a world I have to return to beyond today and this minute of happiness. And suddenly I'm not so very happy anymore, because tomorrow has made it's way back into my thoughts. It's not that I dread seeing Sasuke. No, if anything, it's the opposite. I am ashamed of the niggling unfurling curl of excitement in my gut, fluttering under my fingertips and making my skin chill with goosebumps. My neck heats in contrast, and I fight the shiver that wants to flicker through me. Instead, I swallow shallowly and look over at Kiba, who's gone back to the dogs, ruffling Akamaru's ears and smiling at them all.

Back to the issue at hand. I shake my head, rubbing the sweat off my palms onto my jeans and blowing out a deep breath, cheeks puffing out a little, forehead a little damp. Gaara's coming back. I don't even know where he was, but I knew he'd been out of town for quite some time. I don't really ask about where he goes when he gets like that, and he is silent about...well about the things we don't talk about. But it does sound like he's better, and I can't help but glance again at my cousin, wondering what he would say if he knew, even suspected, that I was considering going out tonight.

Probably nothing. No, he wouldn't say anything at all, I suppose. He'd just look at me with those solemn, glazed eyes he has sometimes when he goes into himself and thinks others can't see. It's my theory that everyone does this sometimes, when they think we're not looking, and that they're alone with thier thoughts. But enough of that. I only see him playing with the dogs again, and look back up at the sky, my legs numb as I stand there contemplating going to see Gaara. If Kiba is my cousin, Gaara is more an uncle than anything. Once, we were close enough to be brothers, but nowadays...no. Well talk about a mood killer.

Regardless, we do this so few and far between that I let the boys have their fun, four-legged and otherwise. We stay until the sun is a golden-grey blur of clouds, and Kuromaru, Imaru and I are curled under the tree, bikes off the one side, leaving me to doze and mumble about with two giant dogs laying cross-ways over me. As it becomes darker, though, I lay under the pile of fur, thinking to myself and weighing the idea of going to see Gaara against a no doubt fun night in with a movie, dinner, and the dogs curled around us on the floor. There's no competetion. I wave over to Kiba and tell him it's time to go home. There's no place I'd rather be tonight.

But I have a sinking, furling feeling that tomorrow will be a different story. My neck hair stiffens in the breeze as I think about tomorrow with baited, stuffy breath. I guess we'll cross that rickety bridge over the pit of death when we come to it, though. Haha. Nothin like a little worry and excitement to spice things up. My stomach heats and jumps as I wonder and hope about tomorrow's meeting after school. And I think that maybe, I should've gone to see Gaara after all, but it's too late as we start home, dogs trailing everywhere.

Tonight is short, and tomorrow is waiting eagerly, dreadfully, for my attention.


	4. Solemn Lyrics To Lamenting

Now, nobody kill me, but Sasuke won't have a voice until next chapter, and it'll probably be around the same time when you see it from his view. Haven't decided on doing the same exact day yet, but I might. Depends on how this goes, as it will be the longest chapter I've written in this story so far:) ALSO, I know I've already done the whole rape thing before, but this won't be the exact same, and definitely not as dramatically fluff-filled. No penetration, I swear to god. Please forgive me:'(LET'S DO THIS THING!

THERE IS A NASTY SCENE IN HERE THAT TOOK ME AWHILE TO DO BC I GOT SICKENED. SO BE WARNED. THERE WON'T BE ANOTHER WARNING BELOW.

* * *

**_"There's so much life I've left to live_**

**_And this fire is burning still_**

**_When I watch you look at me_**

**_I think I could find the will_**

**_To stand for every dream_**

**_And forsake this solid ground_**

**_And give up this fear within_**

**_Of what would happen if they ever knew_**

**_I'm in love with you_**

**_'Cause I'd surrender everything_**

**_To feel the chance to live again_**

**_I reach to you_**

**_I know you can feel it too_**

**_We'd make it through_**

**_A thousand dreams I still believe_**

**_I'd make you give them all to me_**

**_I'd hold you in my arms and never let go_**

**_I surrender-" _**

_'I_ _Surrender'_ by: Celine Dion

So today is most likely going to suck. It's just one of those times, one of those _feelings._ I can't describe the anxiety bubbling in my stomach and the fuzzy taste on the base and back of my tongue beyond those short words. Hoping the unfurling sunlight will prove my gut instinct to flee wrong, I bravely lock up the door and tuck the keys away, hurrying to where Kiba holds our bikes at the sidewalk. I challenge the facts and common sense and everything else that curls the hair on the back of my neck. What can I say? I'm feeling strangely spunky today, despite those things that make me feel like I should run in the other direction asap.

With the odd lift in my cycling, I make it to school just a beat and a half behind my so-totally-not-a-morning-person cousin, and we buckle up our bikes at the side of the bus depot. I corral him to a seat at the far left of the cafeteria, grabbing a styrofoam cup of coffee, a blueberry muffin, and a sausage biscuit. Heating the biscuit up, I hand him the coffee and muffin, waiting for the glaze to fade from his eyes before starting my own breakfast.

Halfway between arriving and me getting up for orange juice, something strange happens. I mean, it's not bizarre completely, but it's strange enough for a Tuesday to throw me off my next bite, and my hand hovers with the half-eaten biscuit a few inches from my mouth.

"Hey guys," a blur of pale skin and violet hair slides into the seat across from me, and Hinata Hyuuga is beaming at us from under her thick fringe of hair, earrings tilting crazily, blue swirls revolving in their hoops.

"Hey, Hinata. What's up?" I mumble, not quite sure what's happening.

"Did you hear that Gaara's back in town? Neji told me he came back in last night and they all went over to the club. Also, they said-"

"Hinata, honey," Kiba grumbles, shushing her effectively, "I don't even remember how I got to school beyond this coffee and muffin. I really don't care. Talk to Naruto."

She turns her bright silvery eyes on me, and I take that previously interrupted bite of biscuit, smiling a little. Hinata is one of the only people I have absolutely no idea about. She never skipped a single beat when Sasuke and I became ex-best friends, and evenly distributes her attention. She used to be painfully shy around me especially, but that stopped somewhere around last year. She's just...Hinata.

She can usually be found in scruffy sneakers, a jacket with stretched out sleeves, and sleek, half-moon glasses on her head. She wears pretty much any color, and likes to put her hair up in strange ways. Today she has a fountain ponytail out of the side of her head, beads decorating the elastic holding it up. She's also wearing bangles on her left wrist and lime green fingernail polish that's only slightly chipped.

Hinata grins at me suddenly and reaches over to ruffle my hair, untamed as always. I almost shy away, before accepting her touch, so acute is my hesitation. But her thin, spindly fingers are harmless, and after a moment she releases me, and I take another bite, smiling back at her because it would be mean not to, she's so cheerful. I don't even question why she ruffles my hair. It used to be one of the more common things people would do; come up randomly to rub my skull. Weird, I know, but common enough.

Now, however, it's...unsettling and unfamiliar.

Ignoring the instinct to leave or shift away, I take it upon myself to spark conversation, for reasons I don't understand.

"So how've you been, Hinata? We haven't talked for awhile," I stare at my mouth in horror from where my consciousness hides behind my brain, wondering what has awakened this previously dormant spark of insanity. While this is a perfectly acceptable topic to bring up, it's horrible and arrogant to think that I'm permitted to comment on such things. They're my own fault!

As I gape at myself silently, Hinata hasn't registered the faintly green tinge around my neck, and plows on forth-with. I listen faintly as she rambles about something Tenten told her, and I can't help but be thankful that she either doesn't care, or didn't notice my slip. Kiba, meanwhile, has been nursing his coffee, having long-since finished his food.

But my appetite has vanished, and I stare a moment at the half-eaten biscuit before nodding to something Hinata has said and feeling my hands clench. I need to learn not to do that, I think distractedly. Clenching my hands into fists when I get nervous, I mean. But they do clench, and tighten even as the thought appears, and my nails cut into my palm, carving out half-moons of clarity. Blinking, I look up and re-engage in the conversation.

"Anyways, I also heard that Ino finally got that date she's been tailing with Sasuke. I know ya'll aren't that close anymore, but did you ever think he'd go for that skinny little-oops. Not supposed to curse before noon. My own new rule. Right, anyway, I heard he told her that he'd go out with her if it would shut her up. I never thought I'd see the day," she finishes, and my heart pulses like drumbeats in my ears.

My mouth moves, "Neither did I. Guess he's changed."

But my chest feels like it's an open wound.

She shrugs and frowns a moment before standing and hefting her bag over her head and across her chest. Kiba's on his second or third cup and I pile our trash together before following them away from the table, tossing the garbage into a bin as we walk past.

Even though I haven't eaten much this morning, I suddenly feel sick and I excuse myself to go sit in a cubicle in the east boys bathroom, bag hanging behind me, gut soon empty and wriggling inside like a worm. My throat is dry and my lips feel numb as my phone buzzes.

KI: u ok? cls jst strtd whr r u?

I sigh, and wipe down my face, cleaning off the tears and spit from my chin and cheeks as I flush the toilet. All I was doing was dry-heaving by now anyways. I do need to be in class, and there's no non-dramatic reason for me to skip. So I heft my bag, splash some water on my face and dry off, and head out to AP English IV, knowing that I'll have to face Sasuke before the shock of the news has even left my ears. It's still there, ringing in my head, and even though I know for sure that I'm being silly, because no way does Sasuke actually _like_ Ino, there's nausea left boiling under my tongue that tells me I'm more affected than I'd like to be.

* * *

About half-way through my day I man up and turn my mind from the thoughts that have consumed it since morning. Looking up, I begin taking down what's on the white-board and slide the teacher's showing, quickly jotting down a graph and the date. I'm not even sure why I reacted that way. I already knew long ago that when Sasuke did start dating, it wouldn't be me, so I shouldn't be acting this way. I'll stop. I will. Class with him wasn't bad this morning, and I managed to avoid meeting the gaze of everyone except Kiba and the teacher. So I focus on school as much as possible.

Later, as I sit down to lunch alone with my foil wrapped burger and a paper tray of fries, I feel that foreboding heavy stare on my shoulders, but for the first time since sophomore year, there's no excitement secretly trailing down my spine, or sweat on the small of my back. No kicking pulse in my lungs, or drumming blood in my ears. There's only a profound ache in my stomach, and I grunt silently in shock, robotically unwrapping the food. But before I can even begin my freak out, a hand presses on my neck, and I find myself hauled back out of the cafeteria, nails in my scalp, chair scraping the floor, and loud footsteps echoing in the hall. There's no help, as I've gotten here early.

"Wha-"

"Shut up, Uzumaki," I clamp my lips tight and seal them bitterly. It's one of the teacher's aides, Kabuto. Ironically, he gives off the same vibe as the teacher he works for, Orochimaru. For example, as soon, as we're out of sight, his grip changes, and he slams me up to the wall, his free hand shifting to touch my face, grip my chin hard. I feel a sweat break out all down my spine, and my spit swells like fear in my mouth, acidic and foul-tasting. I want to bite the fingers he rubs my cheek with, that smell like burnt rubber and grease, but that didn't go so well when I tried it before, so instead, I grit my jaw together and feel my eyes drop down a little.

If I wasn't scared of what would happen, I would just go to Tsunade, but I have no proof against him or the one who lets him do it. The one who's classroom we're in, who's sitting at his desk watching. If I wasn't a coward I would call out Orochimaru Sannin, Tsunade's step-cousin and my Chem I professor for the disgusting creep he is. But he's never touched me. Never laid a single fingertip on me.

Instead, I feel the sharpness of nails as they curl over my head, into my scalp and shove me to my knees, and I can taste blood as I bite my cheek as I hold the iron inside instead of being sick when I hear the loud whisper of a metal zipper. I know he's speaking above me, like always, because I can remember the first awful time this happened, but I don't hear anything now beyond the hammering of my own heart in my throat, stomach protesting the faint scent of musk.

There's hard, smooth skin pressing at my mouth, and I reluctantly open my lips. My tongue is pressed flat against my teeth, salt bathing the tastebuds, and I breath through my nose, gagging a little despite this not being the first time. I don't think about the obscene bulge of my cheek and I close my eyes so as not to see the silver-grey hair in front of me. The smell makes me sick, but I don't move beyond what I'm directed, having learned not to. Kabuto's been here for months, and I've learned not to open my eyes or ears and not to push him away. That just makes it worse. So much worse.

My thighs are frozen tight, stiff and aching in tension, and my fists are probably white from how hard I'm clenching them. I can feel heat in my hand from blood, and feel the slick of sweat from his skin where he holds my face, moving his hips jerkily against my mouth. But none of it registers, and I am kept sane by imagining that I'm somehow not here. Instead, I'm uncomfortable and awkward after school in the library already, and fumbling in my mind for something to say to Sasuke, heart skipping just a little in my chest with happiness. As my head is jerked and the hair on my head yelps in painful stretch, I'm sorting through my bag and ignoring the tiny stings of blunt nails in the back of my neck, cutting into my skin.

A thick, horribly full feeling shoves down my throat as hair tickles my nose and scratches my cheeks, and for a moment the image flickers but holds even as I choke it down. In my mind, secret and safe, I can see his face, eyes dark and condemning and a safety like nothing else. Disregarding his obvious displeasure and anger towards me, his face soothes my nerves, and as my gut heaves emptily. Globs of bitter slime race down my esophagus, and I grasp at the picture in my head with all my being, keeping it there until I'm shoved against the door and Kabuto is trying sloppily to kiss me. I endure the plowing force of his tongue and teeth, and he pulls back and waits, no doubt saying something I've not the presence of mind to listen to. Soon I'm in the hallway again, and the smell of semen is heavy in my head, making my tongue numb and my legs weak. My mouth is fuzzy and salty, and I finally let the image go, racing once more for the lavatory.

Barreling inside, I slam onto the ground in front of the toilet, thanking the fates that there's nobody here, and heave with all my might, puking up long white strings of bile, gagging on spit and tears as my chest heaves too. I hate this. I hate them both so much, but mostly...I hate that I am such a _coward_. Reaching back, I wipe off the thin stripes of blood left from Kabuto's nails, and smear them off on my jacket along with the blood my own nails drew. I lean on the cubicle wall wearily, cleaning off some of the tears, snot and spit from my face with a wad of toilet paper, letting it fall in the bowl. Flushing the toilet for the second time that day, I curl up a little and put my head on the lid after closing it, the cool plastic smoothing out the lines on my face.

My skin is hot and I can feel myself sweating, but I'm already exhausted today, and don't want to move. Silent, tearless sobs wrack my body, in spite of my usual discipline, and I can't help but close my eyes, covering my head with my arms. My leftover tears are a new, fresh, welcome taste of salt in my mouth, and surprisingly wash away the previous fuzz on my tongue. I swallow heavily, and my ears and nose clear as I blink and groan lightly, reaching over to my bag. It hasn't been important, and I've forgotten about lunch altogether. I know I'll have missed most of it, if not all, and text Kiba that I might not make it to Chemistry.

That's a lie. I know I'll be there. I'm expected to be, and I've tried before to get out of it after this, but somehow I always end up on the third row up, a smug, smirking Kabuto breathing down my neck as I answer question after question, throat dry and a little sore. But I'll survive.

Feeling another heave coming up, I flip the lip and lurch over it painfully, whimpering as nothing but clear, burning fluid comes up, my stomach protesting the memory more than the contents. Forcing down the next heaves and gulping back painful tears, I turn the lever again and stand weakly, sliding up the plastic cube wall. Grabbing my bag, I head out, like nothing's happened, back into the world.

I wait for Kiba down the hall away from the room, and wave as I see him, heading over to grin and sling an arm around his shoulder.

"Sorry I missed lunch. Had to get some stuff from the library, and I got sidetracked."

"Yeah, sure you did," he grins foolishly, and touches a red mark on my neck. I freeze over like ice inside, but easily bat his fingers away, letting him think what he likes. It's so much easier than explaining what actually made the marks. A hand on my neck, squeezing tight.

The moment passes in relative calm, and the end lunch bell rings like a death charge trumpet. A dry layer stiffens my throat just on the sore spot, and I swallow heavily, always dreading this. I know that nothing will change what happens now, but I can't help but want to run. It's not really anything dramatic, and it's not like I'm actually being raped or anything, but there's a feeling like mud and filth under my skin, smearing into my veins and making me want to shower until my skin burns cherry red, clean again.

As it is, I walk slightly behind my cousin, using him a bit like a shield, as we approach the classroom. He chatters on about something that happened a lunch, and my mind turns towards the sheen of silver of rectangular lenses, and the long flowing black hair that reminds me of oil. My stomach, however, disrupts this disastrous train of thought, and makes itself known in a different way, and I realize I've yet to keep anything down today, rubbing slightly on my abdomen, feeling hungry for the first time since morning.

Nudging Kiba as we enter the room, I take a sick, triumphant pleasure in knowing at the back of my mind that I'm not paying them any attention. As he turns to me, I murmur, "Do you have any food? I didn't get anything to eat."

He frowns a bit, but I can't tell he does, and he knows that I know now, which means he's totally not hanging on to whatever it is.

Fishing out a foil wrapper, I score as he hands me a hardly-eaten burger, wolfing it down before class starts as we're sitting, gladly washing the bad taste from my mouth and hurrying to finish before they can make me get rid of it. Just as I finish the last bite, the bell rings, and I crumple the foil and toss it in my bag, thanking Kiba and the fates as the door shuts with finality. I've managed to smooth out the drumming pulse and I keep it that way all through class, somehow able to ignore the presence hovering over me.

I can almost taste their joint anger, and it tastes so good. I roll words and phrases of victory on my tongue, loving the bumpy texture of the letters. It feels like the day turning around just a little, and I hold onto it with all my mind till the bell rings again, dismissing us.

I'm the first one out, bypassing any attempt to keep me after, and flee down towards the Health Sciences class, sliding in the door before the room has emptied. My favorite teacher in the world is erasing the board, and glances at me, a smile on his face, "Ah, I wondered what was keeping you, Naruto."

I'm so early the last class is still leaving, and I tell him so. He laughs, and I sit on the front desk, swinging my legs and letting my bag down on the chair. Out of my hellish life, he is one of my landmark constants. One of my rocks. Iruka Umino is technically one of our senior nurses in the school, but he teaches a small class on healthcare, small operations, and emergency procedures every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday.

Mostly we listen to him tell stories, do bookwork, and watch medical films about real people and their traumas. He teaches us to be calm in bad situations, and might be why I'm so introspective at times. Overall, he's another one of my all time favorite people. He acts like a close uncle to me, and everyone loves him as a teacher.

Scooting back, I flop down into the seat, shoving my bag off, down to the floor, and prop my chin on a hand, watching him erase. His white lab coat, which he never takes off in school, as it has pockets of emergency supplies, sways back and forth slowly as his arm moves.

Kiba doesn't have this class with me, and I talk with Iruka eagerly as people fill the room, telling him about Gaara coming home and my week, minus a few select details. He asks how the project with Sasuke is going, and I tell him about the study session tonight. He seems a bit surprised, but happy that everything's going well. He's really a very soft-spoken man most of the time.

Just as he's starting to write something on the board and I'm thinking of something else to say, the bell rings, and I deflate a bit as his eyes dim to teacher mode, and my friend turns back, his eyes sweeping the class, face unreadable from just moments ago. Sometimes I hate how teachers can do that.

* * *

Once again, I focus on school, and forget all about Sasuke, the lunch incident, and even the project until the final bell rings and I gather my things from the locker room, the gym showers steaming the back section and rinsing the stench of sweat from the air. My hair is still damp from the quick wash I had, and I shake my head and comb my fingers through small tangles as I slump down a few minutes later in the library, finally about to see Sasuke.

I'm stunned, and a little worried, because even as I feel some vague happiness, there's a stronger, more bone-deep instinct of sorrow, and a swift blow to the gut wrench of loss. Somehow, this day just got a little worse.

A few moments alone, and I'm re-reading some of the notes I took. Just when I'm turning the page over, there's a thump and Sasuke pulls out the chair across from me, sitting down gracefully. My eyes still follow the line his body moves in, but there's no excited curl of arousal that I would usually have with him so close to me. No twitch in my stomach, or spark up my spine. Just...nothing. I don't understand, but now there's words in the air, and for awhile, we talk about the project and the plans we need to make in writing the final paper and ho we'll present it. Then we get to debating about which parts are the more important to draw attention to, and suddenly a heat comes over my abdomen, and unfurls in my gut.

We're talking. Just being normal, and I'm not being all weird. I'm not crushing on my best friend right now. Well, Ex best friend, but still. Before I can jump for joy, though, there's a commotion at the library double doors, and a white-blonde head jerks around the corner, and an exclamation follows.

"Sasuke! Honey where were you? You were supposed to walk me home! That's part of being my boyfriend," Ino Yamanaka demands, and that heat goes frozen over. And that is the moment I realize that I've felt no excitement, not because I've become suddenly normal, but because I'm _angry_. A rage fills my ears with sounds of pulsing and drumming and I hide a glare in my hand as I have to drop my chin into my palm.

How did I not notice it? It's filling my throat with venom and my tongue vibrates with a clenched hiss, pressing at the back of my teeth, and I can feel my skin tight where I lean my jaw forward against my grinding teeth. There's sweat in my hairline, and half-moons in their usual spot in my hands. Even my face feels taut and painful. Delving a little deeper as he gets visibly irritated and soothes my apparently frayed nerves, I realize that I didn't know I was angry because for so long, I didn't have the sense that I could afford to be angry. That I had the right to be.

What changed?

The only recent thing I can think of is Ino, and surely...

...I think I just let myself realize again that he's never going to like me the way I love him, and that it won't get better. The sense of-yes it's returned-anxiety and pleasure I get from his proximity won't just vanish if I stay away, and the lurch of arousal won't stop because I've decided not to feel it. He's straight. Painfully, gut-burningly straight, and I need to quit trying to convince myself that one day, I'll wake up, and my problems will be solved. I thought I'd already done that, but I know she pouts, and he caves just a little, that I've been lying to myself.

And it hurts so, so bad. A thin ghost film of tears appears and leaves quickly, and the lump that began is swallowed too swiftly to recognize. Another time. For now, though, he glances at me after having dealt with her, and It's Nothing.

The rage has deadened and formed to concrete that sinks and hardens into lead in my veins, and I feel so tired and heavy. I just want to go home right now. Or break something. I could get behind breaking a big vase right about now.

"So lets come back-"

"I actually don't know when my aunt is going to be in town next, so I'd like to spend some time with her this week. If we work on it in the morning and during class, I can let you know when I'm free again. She usually doesn't stay long," I interrupt, past caring that I still love him and that I feel nothing right now but a flinch of regret under a landscape of agonizing coldness.

He blinks a little, eyelids doing a weird flicker. He nods, the movement doing nothing to me, where it would usually make me pause. It's not something he does, agreeing like this. But I'm beyond noticing little precious things like that.

My bed is calling me, and we finish up, small words said, but none that I recall later as I'm riding home alone, slowing turning the pedals and gently parking in the driveway. I feel like I've been to war, and although that's ridiculous, I have a sense of loss and strife in my belly, sinking me into the stairs as I silently let myself in and ghost into my room. I toe off my shoes, dropping my things and laying down on my bed to curl up around Kurama, seeking comfort in his familiar smell and soft, warm belly fur as I burrow my way into it, fingers gentle as they curl around him, rubbing behind his ears. He purrs, and it drowns out the world, giving me solace that there is still a safe place for me to sleep tonight.

For a little while, I'm alright, and then a flood of that breath-stealing sadness hits and my tears dampen orange fur, as I sob silently into my friend, and he's still and peaceful, giving me the time I need without realizing it. Hiccups and the consequent need for air eventually make me move a little away, but I bring him to my chest and curl around him there, his large form still purring, asleep.

I can vaguely hear Kiba come to the door, which I hadn't bothered closing, and quietly, blessedly, shutting the door and walking away again. He understands, and Akamaru has licked away a fair amount of tears in his day, I know. Eventually, my breathing shudders slower, and I start to feel my lids droop with exhaustion. I know I can't just forget what I've known today, and the sense of anger isn't one I can ignore tomorrow, but for now, my throat is sore again, I'm hungry, I just want to sleep without dreams, safe and away from Sasuke Uchiha, the boy who unknowingly, unbearably, and without meaning to, broke my heart all over again.

* * *

Yeah, saw how many visited, and none reviewed but ONE?! COME ON, GUYS. Please review. It makes me think that you don't like my story if nobody reviews. To have to go look at the traffic graph to see if anybody looked or even checked on my story is very disappointing. Please review.


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